


let me be your shelter

by jemmasimmns (laurellance)



Series: jemma simmons cronicles [11]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 23:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurellance/pseuds/jemmasimmns
Summary: Adukowl prompted: Daisy and Jemma at the Battle of HogwartsIn which Daisy and Jemma have one last final conversation before the Battle of Hogwarts. There's a happy ending.





	let me be your shelter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adukowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adukowl/gifts).



> The darling adukowl requested this and I was more than happy to fill this prompt for them- they've always left such kind and wonderful comments on my fics and I could not be more thankful for those comments. 
> 
> Hopefully this token of appreciation is an adequate return for being such a ray of sunshine. <33

The Battle hasn’t started yet, but it may well have already begun. Everyone walks around backs stiff and eyes forward, emotions suppressed and shoulders tense from bearing the weight of the world and refusing to show weakness. There’s a delicate equilibrium in the air: one false move and like a chain of dominos, things would start, falling into the other like a perfect chain reaction.

Daisy looks outside the window from one of the towers, her hair loose around her shoulders. She would tie it up shortly, but until then it would float with the slight breeze that came through the window. She stares at nothing in particular; maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through her veins, maybe it’s the fear prompting her heart to beat faster than usual, and maybe, just maybe, it’s the realization that she doesn’t want to die today.

It’s the latter.

Jemma comes in, silent as a ghost, and takes the spot next to Daisy in the tower. Tension runs along the crevices of her body, in the way she can’t muster a smile of encouragement, in the way she holds herself almost rigidly because if she gives up the illusion of control, the magnitude of what was about to happen would overwhelm her. She gives Daisy a skeletal remain of a smile: her lips perk up, but there’s nothing encouraging in it. It’s a greeting, because words are insufficient and feelings would overflow into words and that would waste precious time they were running out of, precious time they didn’t have. “Are you ready, Daisy?” She sounds worn, battle weary, already on her last nerve.

Daisy doesn’t blame her.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Simmons.” There’s a comfortable silence between them, in the company of the other. They had each other in that moment, and that was soothing enough to last. Hopefully. “How’s everything downstairs?” She jerks her head towards the flight of stairs that ran down into the castle, but it’s an empty gesture. Jemma doesn’t blink nor react to it.

“Nervous. Everyone’s either in a state of suppressed panic or they’re desperately trying to believe that something good could come out of this.” Piper had turned her resolve to strengthening the defenses of the castle, casting defense spell upon defense spell, everything she could think of, regardless of its origin. Mack stood guard by the castle doors, Elena patrolling the nearby parameter.

Daisy pauses looking out the window to search Jemma’s eyes for an answer. Something that could give her hope, something that would give her an answer she wanted to know herself. “And you?”

Jemma sighs, if not only because it was the only medium she would allow herself to express her true emotions. She had faked the will power it took not to break down in the hallway right then and there, allowing her feet and her muscle memory to lead her here to Daisy, because Daisy always had answers. Daisy always knew the right course of action. “I don’t know.” There’s so much more to be said, but there’s nothing more she wants to say right now, because it’s virtually impossible to express _this-could-be-the-end-of-the-world_ and _I-might-die_ and _I’m-beyond-terrified-and-I-need-you-with-me-right-now-in-this-very-moment_ without breaking down and that was something no one needed right now.

Daisy grabs her hand from under the window. Holds it against her own, and it’s a modicum of comfort, something Jemma can hold onto, in a way words could never express. “Daisy-” Jemma starts, because then Daisy hugs her, and feeling Daisy’s body heat against hers is soothing in its own way. It’s not a promise of anything grand, but a guarantee that right now, this was where the two of them were. There weren’t any false pretenses or faked bravados between them, just pure unadulterated fear permeating between the two of them.

The tension melts away in that moment and Jemma wants it to never end.

Daisy ends it after a few moments, time Jemma doesn’t count because she doesn’t want to count the finite when she wants it to become infinite, engraved into her memory, and Daisy feels lighter than she did before the hug. She smiles, taut and anxious, a weak little thing that generates more security to Jemma than any spoken word ever could. “Jemma,” Daisy tells her, “I believe in you. I always have, and I always will. I trust you. I have the utmost faith in you,” she cups her hands on Jemma’s face, “and that faith will never falter. I Love You. Never forget that.” The last three words and spoken softer than the rest of them, solemn and gentle. Daisy looks at Jemma with tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, filled with affection and adoration, and above all, pride. “Give those Nazi bastards hell.” 

“Daisy,” Jemma whispers to her, with a tone of absolute reverence, “kiss me. I know right now is the worst time to ask for something like this but I don’t ask this now, I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to ask this ever again. I’m terrified. I’m beyond terrified.” An unspoken plea blossoms from her lips, a siren song that spoke of a final source of happiness should one of them die.

Daisy kisses her, slow and tender, gentle and soft. It’s longer than it should be, and time is of the essence, but this moment is immeasurable. This moment is something permanent, regardless of what happens next. Her voice is quiet, vulnerable. “How was that?”

From the corner of the force field, the people they’re meant to be fighting approach from the corner of her eye.

They’re running out of time.

Jemma looks at her, like she’s never seen Daisy in this light before, in a light of pious awe. “It was wonderful. Thank you.”

Daisy beacons her head towards the window. “We’ve got to go- they’re getting closer.” Jemma grabs her hand and turns towards the window, watching as humans and giants moved closer towards the wards securing the castle from aerial attacks. “Guess we’re out of time.”

“We’ll meet in the grand hall after this is over,” Jemma responds, “and I won’t let you go.”

Daisy laughs, and it’s not funny, but it’s the only outlet she’s got right now. “I look forward to it.” They’re both attuned to the silence when Daisy speaks again. “You remember our codeword?”

Jemma laughs, and it’s an affectionate laugh. “Manscaping, yes. I suppose it’s better than together or not at all.”

“Together or not at all wouldn’t be very true,” Daisy tells her, “but it’s a lot more romantic than Manscaping.”

“I beg to differ- I would rather like for the two of us to encounter Ward defenseless. With our wands.” Jemma wants that. Desperately.

“Quaking Ward would be a good start. And you’re always creative with coming up with new ways to use old spells for new purposes.” They’re still holding hands looking out the window.

“Daisy, I Love You.” It’s a final confession, before they’re soldiers once more. “In case anything happens, never forget that.”

“I won’t.” Daisy turns her for another hug. “Besides, our story doesn’t end like this. This is only the beginning.” This hug is shorter than the first one, but just as important, if not more. “You ready to beat these Nazi shitsticks?”

Jemma nods. “I’m more than ready. I have you, remember?”

“Jemma, there are better times to flirt.” Daisy’s tone is light, and as they walk down the stairs to join everyone else, they walk lighter than they did before. Her voice is soft as she tells her companion one last thing. “I’ll see you in the Great Hall when all of this is over.”

Jemma smiles at her, soft and quietly joyful. “I’m counting on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at chochang.


End file.
